


mirror of erised

by moaningmyrtle



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mirror of Erised, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:17:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7911397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moaningmyrtle/pseuds/moaningmyrtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The frame was a copper colour, and engraved was something Albus couldn't translate without research. It didn't matter much, in the end- a mirror only had one purpose, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mirror of erised

Hogwarts could be a lonely place.

 

Despite the countless wizards and witches and teachers, dark thoughts tended to spiral when Scorpius wasn't distracted by a book or an assignment or-

 

“Albus,” A whisper slipped out from Scorpius’ lips, voice small and desperate, an unsteady palm curled around his best friends shoulder. For all but the light of the moon slipping in through the brick framed window, their dormitory was as dark as the night sky. A faint snore sounded from a bed tucked into the corner before he'd tried a second time, “Albus, wake up.”

 

The response was silence, and Scorpius looked down at Albus, eyelashes feathered over his skin, chest rising and falling, a sense of peace in his expression that he hadn't seen as of lately; it felt wrong to wake someone who'd been studying for weeks on end, countless hours with his nose tucked away in pages, quill in hand and a head so full of information, it might just burst. It felt wrong, but that didn't change his mind.

 

With a hint of force and slightly less gentle than beforehand, Scorpius groaned and shook his arm, "Mate, come on."

 

“Wh-” Albus went to rub his half opened eyes, and quickly found that his limb remained pinned to the mattress; if it weren't for the fact that this had already happened more times than he could count on two hands, he might've found himself somewhat startled, “Scorpius?”

 

“Obviously,” He’d mumbled back in a slightly apologetic way, just as awake as he’d been at eight that morning and more than restless enough to keep him up for hours longer, "I am sorry about this."

 

"What's happened?"

 

Leaning down, Scorpius rested his chin on his palm and tried not to worry that Albus' first thought was that something had gone wrong. A beat passed before he swallowed a lump caught in his throat and whispered, "Do you still have that cloak?"

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“The cloak,” Scorpius had used it once before, been tucked beneath it’s invisible fabric and pressed so tight against Albus that his body had grown warm in the oddest way, “James cloak, your dad’s, the one that makes you-“

 

“Disappear,” Albus finished for him, trying not to find himself annoyed, pushing back the need to act as irritable as he felt- he'd been so tired that he could've slept for the next twelve hours, but that wasn't Scorpius' fault. Nightmares of a world that no longer remained continued to haunt his mind almost every night, a world when Voldemort had ruled everything and everyone and his best friend didn't walk the halls, wasn’t there at all. It wasn't his fault that they'd ever caused such a place to exist, Albus had taken the credit for that and soon after vowed not to leave his best friend alone with the memories, “Could I ask why?”

 

“I need to get out of here.”

 

“Out of Hogwarts? We've done that- I reckon you remember the disastrous result?”

 

“No,” Scorpius was insistent and continued to ignore Albus’ attempts to pass this off as some sort of stunt; he was in a usual and constant state of anxiety, but this felt more urgent, more genuine, “No, just out of this bloody room. That one over there won't stop snoring and I've finished all my work and I can't read in the dark and-”

 

“Lumos,” Albus couldn't help himself, pulling the twisted sheets up to his chin and closing his eyes once more. An image crept into his imagination, one where he'd solved Scorpius' insomnia with the invitation of crawling into the bed next to him and staying bundled beneath the warmth he yearned not to leave. Those specific and reoccurring fantasies tended to become a challenge to ignore, "Lumos usually works."

 

"Fine," Scorpius grumbled and fell back onto his ankles, reaching his arms out beneath the bed and grabbing a large suitcase that, for the most part, stayed hidden, "I'll find it myself."

 

“Merlin, Scorpy."

 

Peering over the side of his bed, he'd locked onto the top of Scorpius' head, searching through yarn jumpers and extra robes and things from home that he didn't often look at. The realization dawned on Albus that this wasn't going to end in his favor, “It's tucked in the bottom drawer. Since when did you start breaking all sorts of rules?”

 

“When you dragged me over the side of the Hogwarts Express.”

 

A frown pulled at Albus’ face, still wrinkled from where he'd pressed it against his pillow.

 

Moving as quietly as he could to where the dresser stood overflowing and crooked, Scorpius noted for the hundredth time that Albus was as untidy as a five year old with a box of toys, “Are you coming?”

 

“Where- to the library? You know, when you'd spent four hours there this afternoon, I'd really assumed you'd had enough.”

 

The jab seemed to soar right over Scorpius’ head, completely engrossed with the cloak that he’d began to curl around his arm; there was something about his infinite passion towards magic, his desire to learn and experience, that caused Albus’ stomach to twist in a strange sort of way. It's as if he never got tired of newfound wisdom, of analyzing, of teaching- a great student, but more so, a fantastic person. There was a chance Albus' knew he was staring in a way that friends didn't do, and yet it was all so enticing, such a view that he couldn't tear his gaze away.

 

“This is, really, truly amazing,” Scorpius’ attempted to whisper, bright eyed and a sense of wonderment traced along each word, looking up to find Albus staring back at him as though he were a novel he didn't quite understand, “What?”

 

Hastily clearing his throat and redirecting his view towards his own feet, Albus silently blessed the lack of light and willed his skin to cool as quickly as it could- he’d wished he’d memorized a spell to do so, “Nothing. So, fancy the library?”

 

“I don't think so."

 

Face lit up as though it were Christmas morning, Albus was brought back to a time when he'd felt his heart first swell three times its size. They'd been sitting beneath a tree that nearly touched the ceiling, decorated and bright and full of holiday spirit, and he'd been nervous to pull the gift wrapped journal out from his book bag and slip it onto Scorpius' lap. The grin that had spread across his face, contagious and warm, was similar to now as he looked down to realise his head stood alone, no longer a body beneath it, “Where do you want to go?”

 

“Back to bed?”

 

Disappointment tore across Scorpius’ face and caused a burning guilt on Albus' conscious, shaking his head and pushing the sheets off his legs, “Kidding. Let’s just- we’ll wander, alright? Until you're okay.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Albus flashed a small, tired smile, and Scorpius returned one with more gratitude and appreciation. It wasn't as if he wouldn't have given in to the temptation eventually- he’d do anything for him, and although that truth very rarely was admitted, it couldn’t have been much of a secret.

 

With quiet steps inside cushioned slippers, Albus crept across the squeaky floorboards and Scorpius lifted the left side of the cloak as though it were a wing; it was reasonably sized fabric, but not large enough to keep them from brushing against each other with every step out of the room and into the candle lit hallway. Nearing a quarter past two and hidden in clear sight, there was no one to stare, to gawk, to point- it was, in one word, refreshing. Yet, even when the halls seemed at their worst and it felt as though the world remained against them, it wasn't impossible to ignore.

 

A challenge, maybe, but not impossible. Not with Scorpius at his constant side, a consistent light in his life, telling stories that he'd heard a dozen times and still would've listened a dozen times more. They often spent hours hidden in one of Hogwarts many nooks, simply talking about the past and the future, about things that they'd dreamed of and dreaded all the same. In those infinite moments, Albus found that the rest of it didn't matter all that much.

 

“Here,” They’d bumped against each other at a corner where the hall became two, and Albus nodded in a direction they'd never travelled before- Scorpius' stopped, hesitant.

 

“There's not even a classroom down there.”

 

“I should've known,” Albus stopped and turned, inches apart, teasing in a way that sounded a lot like flirting, “You pulled all this so we could go back to class.”

 

“Don't be daft.”

 

There was very few candles that lined the brick walls and Albus’ could hear Scorpius’ swallowing loud before taking the first step. It was a school with thousands of secrets, filled with magic and mystery, and they'd barely breached the surface- both had been sold that tales of trouble that their fathers had gotten into, that they’d learned more about Hogwarts than most everyone else.

 

“Do you think Harry ever went out after dark?” Scorpius couldn't hide his worry, but there was a hint of exhilaration there as well that he surely wouldn't admit too, couldn't without proving Albus' right, “Or my dad?”

 

“Probably both, you know,” Albus was peering back and forth and up and down, waiting for someone to jump out at any given moment, grabbing hold of their cloak to reveal their wrinkled pyjamas, “To mess with each other.”

 

“Why do you think they'd never got along? I mean, in the start, before Voldemort and the war.”

 

“You know why.”

 

Albus didn't dare to say it aloud, didn't want to compare Draco to the cruel students they fought with day after day. Despite what he'd once been, he was a father now, a good one and a strong one, the only family Scorpius had. Laughing, he whispered over his shoulder and attempted to lighten his mood, “Come on now, maybe they'd secretly fancied each other.”

 

It wasn't completely unbelievable, despite the way that Scorpius nearly burst with amusement over such a ridiculous suggestion. Secrets of such unrequited love, Albus had learned, could stay hidden for some time. Five years, if you'd tried hard enough. Six or seven, if you were to stay committed to your own silence.

 

Laughing so loud that he might as well have woken every picture hanging in the castle, Scorpius wiped a stray tear from his cheek and attempted to compose himself, “You don't think- a Malfoy and a Potter?”

 

The words had slipped from his lips before he'd had a chance to realise the irony. The sons of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, absolutely inseparable.

 

It was a scandal. It was unimaginable.

 

It was the best thing that Albus’ had ever had in his life.

 

“Oi’!”

 

A booming voice, not far behind them, startled both boys instantly still, feet glued to the cobblestone. They should've known this was coming, or in another way, they both did. Despite expecting it, fear had rose through their bodies and if possible, it might've appeared like they'd paralysed themselves.

 

“Is that-”

 

“Damn it,” Albus whispered and felt Scorpius squeeze his arm, nails pinching his skin as he peeked over his shoulder, “It’s Filch.”

 

“Do we run?”

 

“Who's there,” Filch’s shout sounded hoarse and rough, as though he'd lost his voice years and years ago; retirement surely wasn't in his near future, “Don't you doubt that I'll find you!”

 

Between getting caught and trying not too, Albus nodded and they took off at a sprint, footsteps echoing and yet Filch couldn't see a thing- that didn't stop him from stumbling after the source of noise, and soon enough, it was a race against an old man and a matted cat that followed his ever move.

 

Only after three more corners, breath ragged and short, Scorpius realized they'd momentarily lost the trail and tugged Albus towards a large door, one he'd sworn he'd never known existed. It was unused and forgotten, a layer of fine dust had built over the rusted knob and the details in the aged wood door, as though they'd simply ignored its existence.

 

As though it was merely an extension of his own arm, Scorpius slipped his wand from the pocket of his sweats and rested it above the hole where a key might've gone, “Alohamora.”

 

Filch was soon again trailing on them as though his ears had been trained to hear an ant crawl, and both pushed through the door the moment they’d heard a lock click- breathless and shaking, they looked up and tried to figure out where the hell they'd just broken into.

Hundreds of white candles floated near the ceiling. Tall, dusty shelves lined every single wall, covered in artifacts and wizard’s toys and books and just about everything else. If Albus had to guess, he would've called it Dumbledore’s closet. Two large arch windows faced the open water surrounding Hogwarts, and although it was quite the sight to happen upon, what became more distracting was the round mirror that stood between- it was like it both belonged, fit in perfectly, and at the same time, stood out like a sore thumb.

 

The cloak slipped to the stone floor while Scorpius, wide eyed and hand outstretched, reached toward the first book he’d laid his eyes on. The golden spine was layered in dust and grime, leaving behind a clean line after he’d run a finger across the fabric, “What is all this?”

 

Shaking a stray spiderweb from his curls, Albus' gaze trailed the entire interior of the room; it was fantastic, huge and yet well lit, dusty but tidy, a view unlike most. If it were, in fact, a closet, it was one built for royalty.

 

“Somewhere we shouldn't be.”

 

“Should we go?”

 

“Hold on,” Albus tip toed backwards and pressed his ear close to the inside of the door, a moment later feeling the brush of Scorpius as he did the same; neither took a breath until the footsteps began again, right outside the room they'd locked themselves in.

 

The footsteps continued, sounding further away until they’d convinced themselves they were safe, and then turned and crushed that hopeful thought with a single thud.

 

It took a minute for Scorpius’ enthusiasm to fade, “He's pacing. Right outside this room, back and forth.”

 

“He’ll go,” Albus mumbled, turning away from the door and surveying where he might kill time for the next few minutes, possibly hours depending on Filch’s level of commitment, “Eventually, he’ll go.”

 

“This is my fault,” His best friend sounded nothing less than broken, and that, for some odd reason, reminded Albus of something his dad had told him. Something about happiness and darkness and turning on a light-

 

“Hey,” Albus grinned, and wether it was real or pretend didn't matter; it was about turning on a light, and his light happened to be Scorpius, “Read to me?”

 

“Again?”

 

“Yeah, come on, we've got nothin' to do,” Albus nodded at the shelf, and if he were being honest, it didn't matter that he’d just finished reading the wizarding world's most boring book aloud not a week ago. Sometimes it helped Scorpius’ to sleep, often just to kill time, but it wasn't just for his benefit- Albus could've listened forever and a day. Poetry flowed from his lips no matter what he read- it was the way he spoke, the way he looked while he did so. Blonde waves pushed back, long fingers gently placed over the pages, eyelashes long and fanned as he followed each line- he could finish an entire library and Albus still wouldn't tire of the sight.

 

“Sure,” Scorpius sounded hesitant, as though this might’ve been some sort of trick- it was almost too easy, to stumble into a room filled with books he'd never seen before, and have someone ask him to read aloud, to simply read and do nothing else.

 

The shuffling of pages filled the room as he searched through covers, attempting to find one that could hold his attention- meanwhile, Albus wandered opposite him and headed towards the ominously large mirror, seemingly a misfit object compared to the rest.

 

The frame was a copper colour, and engraved was something Albus couldn't translate without research. It didn't matter much, in the end- a mirror only had one purpose, really.

 

Or so he thought, until he took one look in the reflection and jumped so instantly that it caused his knees to shake, “Scorpy!”

 

From the other side of the room, distracted and far away, Scorpius called back a simple, “Mhm?”

 

But the reflection was so clear.

 

It was him and his best friend, side by side, smiling. In two places, Scorpius was both next to him in front of the mirror and sitting with crossed legs and a pile of books, a dozen feet away.

 

“I don't-”

 

Albus voice was barely there, and he'd cut himself short, caught off gaurd- the image in the reflection was changing now, before he'd even had a chance to register what black magic could've just happened. Whether it was safe or not, he didn't look away.

 

Fingers stayed firmly at Albus’ own hip, but in the image, they were moving. In the mirror, Scorpius had instinctively reached his own hand out, and together their hands slid, as though they'd done it a thousand times. It was casual, lovely, and something that he’d never realised he'd wanted. Not only did he want it, he needed it, he craved it, he'd dreamt about it.

 

Watching as the two men laced their fingers together, a happiness he hadn't realized he'd been waiting for lifted his heart high. Then, as though it hadn't been quite perfect, the two men in the mirror shifted closer. Closer, closer. They were entangled, face to face now, Scorpius an inch or so shorter and staring up at Albus as though he was his entire world- they'd looked at each other in that exact way before, for small moments usually followed by a silence, one filled with the question of why, of what it meant, of when they'd ever say it aloud.

 

It was obvious, now. They'd been missing something, something the mirror was trying to show him, possibly something he'd never have. Swallowing a large lump in his throat, Albus looked over to where Scorpius was lost in a book that appeared as ancient as the mirror.

 

A part of him wanted to tell the truth, to try and make sense out of what was happening; another, stronger and more insistent part, didn't want to say a thing. This would surely end, and he didn't want it to end, not yet.

 

As he turned back, Scorpius began to read, and everything fell into place.

 

In the reflection, they'd moved so close that Scorpius had his chin rested on Albus’ shoulder, nose hidden in collar of his school robes and a smile across his own face. They seemed happy, just as they were now, but there was a barrier between the two that seemed to have disappeared. Comfortable and weightless, neither seemed to mind that their hug had grown into more, lasted longer than a second or two.

 

Reaching up, Albus realised he was smiling too, that his pulse had never quite beat like this before, that his skin had grown fire hot and his fingers ached to reach through the glass and make it all come to life. A part of him wanted to be honest, not to let whatever this was take him away from the dilemma they'd been caught in, to tell Scorpius and figure out what the hell this mirror was showing him. Another part of him, less honest and more full of yearning, couldn't say a word.

 

Instead, with Scorpius’ soothing voice echoing the walls and Albus’ legs having turned to some sort of jelly, he didn't move a muscle, didn’t open his mouth. Just as he turned back towards the mirror, he and Scorpius had pulled away from the hug, leaning into each other in a different way.

 

“I don't understand,” Albus mumbled to himself, moving closer, throat swollen and whole body needy of more; the reflection of himself was hiding a sheepish smile, pink in the cheeks and visibly nervous. Scorpius, however, was confident, and wrapped his palm around Albus' waist and pulled him close.

 

A gasp slipped out before he could stop himself, and Scorpius stopped reading.

 

"Albus?"

 

Their lips met and both were still for a moment, eyes open. Then, as if a flame had begun to burn, it changed- Albus melted into Scorpius' arms and they fell into each other as though it had been inevitable, like it was bound to happen and the moment had been awaited for much too long.

 

"Are you okay?"

 

The men in the reflection were losing themselves completely to one another, and Albus stood watching as their kiss deepened into something so real, so geniune, that this couldn't have been his own imagination. Embracing each other, Scorpius' had slipped his hand beneath the layers of the other students robes, pulling him closer, unable to get enough.

 

A few feet away, Scorpius had pushed himself up from the ground and tossed the book back on the shelf, back to where it'd been before.

 

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it's bad to stare at yourself that long?"

 

Panic in his voice and terrified that the mirror wouldn't revert back to the way it'd been before, Albus lost his nerve and tore himself from the glass only to shove Scorpius out of the way, away from the mirror and the image he so desperately wanted to sit in front of for the rest of his time at Hogwarts, for as long as he could withstand.

 

Watching as Scorpius' stumbled backwards, Albus caught himself truly at a loss for any excuse to explain, startled by his own overreaction.

 

"What the hell- why'd you push me?"

 

"Don't," Albus was near the verge of tears, so badly wanting to watch but Scorpius' couldn't see it too, couldn't witness what he'd been seeing- he might assume it'd been Albus' own illusion, and he'd be right. There just wasn't a way to explain that, not without sounding like a lunatic, not without admitting he'd been in love with his best friend for years now, that the reflection might've been more than some prank or joke or black magic.

 

"You're scaring me. What's that mirror done to you?"

 

Pushing past him, Scorpius' rushed to the space in front of the mirror and Albus watched the expression on his face fade from frustrated to confused.

 

"Don't freak out-"

 

"It's just you and me. But we're old. You've gone all grey and I'm- how's it doing this?"

 

That wasn't what Albus had seen. Stumbling over his own feet, he'd rushed back to the mirror and looked again, and the reflection had simply started over like a recording- they were the same age still, just as young as they were now, and once again, they'd begun to held hands.

 

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi," Scorpius read the inscription aloud, eyes narrow for a moment, and then immediately widened as if he'd understood-

 

"What," Albus was caught in the reflection again, watching as the two men smiled and swung their locked hands back and forth- the sight caused his cheeks to burn, "What does it say?"

 

"It, uh," Scorpius' had his sight locked onto the image, and Albus could see it now, that his own reflection was changing too. A short minute passed before he'd built up the courage to continue, not looking over, not turning away from the mirror, "I show not your face but your hearts desire. Albus?"

 

Albus didn't respond. Every limb in his body had gone weak, his heart pounding so fast his ribs threatened to break. The men in the mirror were leaning into each other again, just the same as before.

 

"Albus- what did you see?"

 

Before he could help himself, Albus reached out and grabbed Scorpius' hand.

 

"I saw you and I," Albus was near whispering, and Scorpius turned away from his own reflection to look down, and then quickly back to the mirror- he saw it, too. Then, as if the damned thing had known all along, they seemed to attract each other like planets losing orbit, like they'd been spinning around each other for so long and gravity had given up on keeping them apart.

 

The room had gone so quiet, they could hear a wave hit the shore half a mile away. In' Albus case, all that he could listen to was the rhythm beneath his chest, the one going just as fast as Scorpius'. That, and his own breathing, staggered and heavy.

 

 

Just as the reflection of Albus had done before, he hid a grin, shy and barely there. To his own surprise, Scorpius was smiling too, still hadn't pulled his hand away, was inching closer as his gaze drifted from the mirror to only Albus, as though he didn't have to watch because it was happening, not in the mirror but really, actually happening.

 

"And?"

 

"And," Albus moved even closer, couldn't stop himself, didn't want too. Time seemed to slow down, so slow that he could feel the heat of Scorpius' thumb around the top of his hand, watched the way his tongue darted across his bottom lip and a wisp of hair fell astray across his forehead, seconds turning into forever as he took in every aspect of whatever this was, "We looked happy."

 

One last time, Scorpius peeked back at the mirror, and a grin broke across his face.

 

"We do."

 

Just as he turned back towards Albus, lips caught his own, and they froze- not for more than a second, and suddenly that spark he'd seen was real. Insides stirring and everything around them seemingly fading into the ground, Scorpius' leaned into him and they pressed against each other, as though they'd been waiting patiently for years, to feel this, to be in this moment.

 

Compared to a warm cup of tea after a walk through snow, to sleeping in on weekends or laughing so hard tears sprung to your eyes, this moment made all Albus' favorite things seem so absolutely meaningless.

 

They hung on to each other like it might be the last time, fingers slipped beneath fabric and the kiss fading quickly from gentle to desperate, to long overdue and determined.

 

"Wait," Albus pulled back, foreheads together and at a loss for breath, wanting to memorise the way that Scorpius' smelled, looked, felt beneath his own hands and what taste he left lingering on his lips; it was a sweet combination of honey-coloured toffees and the cologne he wore most everyday, "What can you see?"

 

"This," As if he couldn't believe it, Scorpius laughed and tucked his chin into Albus' shoulder, staring back at the mirror.

 

"And I've gone gray?"

 

Leaning back, Scorpius reached up to run his fingers through Albus' bed head; that had happened before, that and other mindless touches, and yet every time they'd seemed to acknowledge they'd crossed the line of rational friendship, tension grew. That tension seemed to have floated somewhere far out the window.

 

"I wouldn't worry," They shared a glance that finally answered that unanswered question of 'why,' and Scorpius nodded casually to the reflection only he could see, a small, stifled smile curling his lips, "It suits you."


End file.
